Rise of House Baelaeron

Neala Baelaeron was a princess who had wanted for nothing since birth. Her every wish was catered to and her every desire was promptly fulfilled. If she desired a new dress, servants would rush to the finest workshops to bring her a dozen magnificent gowns. When she decided to learn the art of sword fighting, the best swordmasters in the land were at her disposal, ready to share their skills with her at her leisure.

All knowledge, be it about magic or the history of long forgotten days, was always within reach. She especially loved to hear stories from the old Valyrian days from people who had experienced them. Although House Baelaeron was now more powerful than Valyria had ever been in its heyday, it remained the cradle of her family and the birthplace of what they were.

But unlike most of her family, she always tried to see the good in people. Unlike the others, she did not look down on those who did not bear a noble name, nor did she feel superior to them. In her eyes, every person had their own value. She was convinced of this and not only told herself this, but believed it from the bottom of her heart.

She was barely bothered by the fact that her numerous cousins, aunts and uncles often regarded her as strange, even weird, because of this way of thinking. She was who she was and couldn't change it.

But that didn't mean that the fire of the dragon in her was any less fierce than in the others. The untamed temperament of her bloodline also burned in her chest, and when she got angry, she could be just as impetuous and fearsome. Woe to anyone who dared to awaken the sleeping dragon in her.

She didn't know what it was, but when she saw the prince, something awakened in her. She felt a desire that she could hardly describe. The dragon stirred within her, its wings full of impatience as she felt the greed, the desire for him.

The greed inside her was not a bright, intrusive fire, but rather like glowing coals lying under the ashes. They had been glowing for a long time, but now the wind had come to fan them into a flame.

Her grandmother recognised this and was not shy about rubbing that in her face. She had paved the way for her and now it was up to her to take the initiative.

Not a day after the festival did she find herself in the care of a woman she had never seen before. Seraphine, however, assured her that this woman could teach her everything she would ever need to know. At first, she doubted Seraphine's decision, convinced that no one could teach better than Seraphine herself. But soon she realised how wrong she was.

The woman was not only breathtakingly beautiful, but also quick-witted, astute, self-confident and, as she soon discovered, utterly ruthless. The first thing she learned from her was to control her emotions. In the words of the woman: 'Those who wear their thoughts on their faces have no place in the snake's nest of treachery – except as rats to be thrown to be devoured by the predator.'

Still, she couldn't accept every lesson she learned—let alone consider them necessary or even practical. Some of her teacher's views were simply too radical, too cold and merciless for her. Suggesting infanticide crossed a line she was never willing to cross.

Deep down inside, she clung to what she was, to what she had always been. She didn't want to become someone whose soul was eaten up by guilt, whose thoughts couldn't find any rest at night. She wanted to be able to look at herself in the eye without seeing the reflection of a stranger.

Most of her lessons consisted of being presented with problems that she had to solve using pure wits and reason. This was easier said than done. It could be frustrating when every good idea was immediately made worse by another variable.

Another prince had tried to kill her and she knew exactly who it was. Now it was up to her to inform the emperor, who, if only because of her position as Princess of House Baelaeron, was obliged to investigate. But what if he knew about it and kept quiet about it? Or even worse – if he was involved himself? What if all her steps were already woven into a web of lies and deception?

What if here, what if there, what if this, what if that...

Argh! Sometimes she would have liked to tear her hair out in frustration. No matter what answer she gave, it was never accepted as a solution; instead, the situation only became more complicated. Because, as her mentor taught her, in life there were no final, infallible truths. No answer was absolutely right, no problem ever completely resolved.

Behind every obstacle lurked a greater challenge, behind every solution an even greater chaos.

Only when you have mastered the first problem do you deserve to face the one behind it. And if you fail? Well, then even more problems await you.

Another problem she had to face was that her children would not have dragons. Even though they have her blood, no one outside the family is allowed to have dragons. However, she was allowed to take her beloved Synrax with her. Otherwise, she would have had to forcibly suppress any feelings she had for the Prince. A soul bond between a dragon and its rider is deeper than most people think.

Only dragonriders can understand how true this connection is and what pain is caused by the death of the other. Even if others think that dragons are only a means to an end and weapons for them, they were much more than that. That is why she would have done anything to be allowed to take Synrax with her.

She didn't just spend time with her teacher, but also with her family. Although it wasn't a final farewell, she would be alone for the time being and therefore spent a lot of time with her parents and sisters.

One of her favourite activities with her mother was baking; hardly anything calmed her as much as the scent of fresh dough and warm pastries. She had inherited this passion from her mother, who had taken her into the kitchen with her from an early age. There, among sacks of flour and honey-glazed pastries, her love of baking was born. It was not something a princess of her station should do, but neither she nor her mother allowed themselves to be constrained by such expectations.

It was certainly interesting material for the servants' gossip, but they had other things to worry about than fretting over their ruler's unusual pastimes.

Besides her time with her mother, she also spent many hours with her younger siblings. They were a few years younger than her, still too young to really understand who she was and what role she would play one day. But that didn't matter to her. Their little fingers, their soft cheeks, they were just too cute not to spend every possible minute with them.

Even when she would be in Yi Ti, she would make it her priority to talk to them regularly. The Glass Candles made this possible. Even if it wasn't the same as if she were really there with them, she still wanted them to grow up knowing who their big sister was.

She was pulled out of her thoughts when the door opened and her teacher's familiar ginger hair entered the room.

''Good morning. I see you have found the book I recommended,'' Lady Myranda observed with a look of satisfaction when she saw the open book on the table in front of her.

''Good morning, Lady Myranda. It has been most helpful in deepening my knowledge of the foreign culture of Yi Ti. Thank you for the recommendation,'' she replied curtly and placed her hands neatly folded on the table.

''That pleases me to hear. The author had an extraordinary talent for describing the finer details with impressive precision. After my countless trips to Yi Ti, I found this work to be one of the most accurate treatises on the Empire of the Dawn." Her teacher sat down in the chair in front of her with graceful ease, her eyes fixed on her.

Thus begins another lesson that will prepare her for her future.